


I Don’t Think We Are Okay

by ZequoiaRose



Series: The Memories That Were Forgotten [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Sad Sam Winchester, Stanford Era, Stanford Era (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZequoiaRose/pseuds/ZequoiaRose
Summary: Dean. His brother. Who he hasn’t seen since... and has only talked to once on the phone after Dad... Dean who is standing gripping the railings as if it’s the only thing keeping him up. Dean who is black and blue. Dean who is now staring at Sam and saying something.“Sammy?” Deans voice is tight, like he’s holding his breath for Sam’s reaction.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Series: The Memories That Were Forgotten [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732231
Comments: 7
Kudos: 202





	I Don’t Think We Are Okay

It’s Friday again, which means everyone gets together at Sam and Jess’s place to hang out. Sam is currently nursing a beer, laughing at Brady as he tries to throw popcorn into Chase’s mouth. A loud knock - more a bang really - cuts through the noise. Sam’s heart leaps - old habits, he guesses. He looks around the now quiet room, seeing the looks of confusion as to who else could be here. 

Sam gets up, waving a hand at Jess to say he’s got it. The chatter picks up again as Sam walks to the door. Sam’s grin freezes on his face as he throws open the door and sees-

Dean. His brother. Who he hasn’t seen since... and has only talked to once on the phone after Dad... Dean who is standing gripping the railings as if it’s the only thing keeping him up. Dean who is black and blue. Dean who is now staring at Sam and saying something. 

“Sammy?” Deans voice is tight, like he’s holding his breath for Sam’s reaction. Sam just stares, his heart crashing. “Well? Say something.” Dean has never been one for patience. 

Sam breaks from his chance and practically leaps to embrace Dean. He breaths in the smell and it’s... home. Despite everything it’s home. 

Dean grips Sam just as tight, fully excepting his younger brother’s affection. He pats Sam a few times before pushing away slowly. Sam looks at Dean again, really taking in what Dean looks like. And it’s... crap. Dean looks straight up like crap. He’s not even standing upright. In fact, he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out. 

“What- what happened to you?” Sam asks, shakes his head and tries again, “No, wait. Come in. Then you can tell me while I check you.”

Sam knows - he can see - the protest on Deans lips, so he just shoved Dean inside, effectively freezing the conversation of his very forgotten guests. Sam curses rather violently in his head. He’s completely overlooked how Dean must look, bloody and bruised. 

“Hey, this is my brother. Dean. Dean, this is... yeah,” he finishes with a wince, noticing Dean tense up as eight sets of eyes turn to him. 

“Um, hi, Dean. I’m so glad to finally meet you. Sam has told me a lot about you.” Sam could kiss Jess for breaking the silence. 

“All bad things, I’m sure,” Dean forces a smile. 

Jess’s bright laugh cuts through. “Well, of course!” That seems to relax everyone enough to turn a few eyes away, giving Sam enough privacy to talk to Dean again. 

“Dean, lets go in the kitchen. We can catch up there,” Sam offers. 

Dean nods gratefully, Dean stumbles a step and a sharp gasp escapes him as he catches himself on the wall, his face going white as he attempts to stay upright. 

“Dean!” Sam rushes, eyes furiously scanning for signs of what caused this reaction, but filthy clothes are hiding everything. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” 

The older brother grasps Sam’s arms, blinking to try to get rid of the haze. “I think I need to sit down.”

And even though worry is crowding his mind, Sam laughs. “Yeah, no shit, jerk.” 

Dean lips stretch into a small, but genuine smile. “Bitch.”

Jess comes up beside them, carrying a chair from the kitchen that Sam immediately lowers Dean into. He looks around the room to see everyone now standing, looking worriedly at Dean. 

“Is..” Jaden starts. “Is he okay?”

Sam shrugs. “He will be. Dean always had a knack for playing with things he shouldn’t.”

“Oh, please. That was all you,” Dean gasps out. 

“Yeah yeah. Whatever,” then addressing his group, “Anyway. I think I’m going to have to cut the night short.”

Everyone nods, taking the dismissal understandably. They begin to file out, each saying a goodbye to Sam and Jess and a get well soon to Dean. When they’re all gone, Sam crouches in front of Dean’s chair. The older has his head in one hand as the other tightens against his abdomen, curling even further into himself as he seems to struggle to breathe. “Okay. Okay, Dean. Let’s get your shirt off so I can see, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“None of that. I’m glad you came. Do you want me to ask now or later?” About what happened is blatantly obvious. 

“Later. I can’t talk much right now.” And he’s right. Every word is getting tighter and more breathy with pain. 

Sam nods, squaring his shoulders and looking at Jess who has been quietly beside him the whole time. “Can you help me get his shirt off?”

They do eventually get it off, and Sam is again struck to silence as the takes in the black and blue and deep red that is his brother’s torso. “Oh god. Dean, I don’t even...” 

Jess looks just as horrified. “I’m going to... go get a rag?” She says like a question, but moves anyway. 

“Dean, what happened?” Dean sighs, but stays silent. His eyes meet Sam’s and Sam knows. He just knows. Jess walks into the room then, but Sam can’t look away - not now. “Dad did this?” Sam’s voice breaks on the question. Deans eyes flick away, an easy tell. 

“Come on, Samantha. It’s not as bad as it looks.” Sam knows his brother is trying to lighten the blow, but it falls flat. 

Jess saves him from answering as she sets down a bucket of water with a rag and a first aide kit. Sam thinks he’s never loved her more than right now. He surveys the mess that is now Dean and looks to find a place to start. He can’t even see where the blood is coming from. Well, he thinks, finding that is a good place to begin. 

He picks up the rag, ringing it out before mopping at the blood on Dean’s chest. Dean’s whole body shudders from pain, and that more than anything wrecks Sam. He drops the rag standing quickly, ignoring the confused looks. “I need a minute,” he says, hoarsely, the stinging in his eyes making it hard to see. He turns his back and puts the back of his hand to his mouth, forcing his emotion down. 

Dean needs him. Dean is hurt. Dad beat him. Dad who was supposed to protect him, protect them. Dad who he would gladly leave again and again. Dad who Sam would be willing to kill. Dad who-

No. Dean. Dean needs him. Dean is the one who idolized - idolizes - their dad. And Dean is the one sitting broken from the same man. He turns, finding Jess picking up where he left off, gently removing the blood so they can find the source. She’s talking quietly, Sam realizes. She’s talking about him to distract Dean. 

“-has always been the protector of the group. He makes the plans, he organizes study groups and meeting... He’s amazing, Dean. And from what he’s told me, that’s all due to you. When I met him, he was all bright eyed and ready for the world. Once he actually started talking to me, I realized that he was so much more than I had guessed. I think the only reason that we - as in our group - are succeeding in our schooling is because of him.” There is silence as Jess works. Dean is listening with his eyes jammed closed. “Ah-hah!” Jess exclaims. “I found it. Oh. Oh no. It’s deep. Like stitches deep. Maybe we should take you to the hospital?” 

“No,” Dean chokes out. “Definitely not.”

Jess frowns, ready for a fight. Sam jumps before she can say anything. “It’s okay. I got it. I think I still have thread in the kit.” Jess glares at him, but Dean gives a relieved smile. You win some you lose some, he guesses. 

He sets himself to getting everything ready, checking the wound and deciding that it’s awful and angry and deep and definitely needs stitches. He readies the needle and thread, checking up on Dean to see if he’s ready. He gives a sharp nod and Sam begins. The familiar push and pull makes Sam’s stomach roll. This used to be easier. He’s done this before. Many times, actually. But the reasons were always easy: werewolf here, vampire there. But their dad? Never this bad. Sure, a black eye, bruised ribs, and of course the injuries that he had when he called... but this is somehow so much worse, and it’s getting to Sam. His eyes blur again, and he hastily blinks to get rid of it, allowing the tears to fall in favor of seeing where he’s stabbing his brother. He finishes quickly after that, not wanting to prolong the process. He sits back and looks to his brother again, finding a single treat making its way down Dean’s face. 

“Where else, De?” Sam whispers. 

Dean shrugs carefully. “Honestly, I think that’s all that can be done. Everything else is... inside. You can’t stitch bruises.” 

“Can I get you something to drink, Dean? Some painkillers? Anything?” Jess questions. 

“No. No. I need to get out of here. Find a place to crash for a while until dad-“ Dean stops, rubbing his eyes. 

“Oh, please. You’ll stay here,” Jess huffs and Sam is positive that his heart is in his eyes. 

“No. Coming here was stupid. Sam is good. I’m... I shouldn’t have come.” Dean tried to push himself up. 

“De, please. Please stay,” Sam begs. 

Dean... has never been able to say no to his Sammy. So he just nods with a sigh. 

“Come on. I’ll help you get to bed, okay?” Dean nods, bracing himself as Sam helps him up the stairs to the guest bedroom. He lays Dean on the bed, grimacing at the pain etched in his features. “It’s okay. Just relax.” Finally Dean’s body releases and Sam is blessed with seeing relief carved on his brother’s face. “Will you be okay here?”

“Yeah. I’m going to be fine, Sammy. Now go get your girl to sleep, will ya?”

Sam laughs softly and makes his way out. 

“Sammy?” 

Sam pauses, looking back. “Yes?”

“I’m proud of you.” Sam feels his eyes burn for the third time that night. He pats the doorframe as an answer before flicking the light off and leaving the room to find Jess. He finds her in the kitchen, placing the chair back in its proper place. She gives him a tired smile and he cups her face. 

“I love you.” Jess’s eyes light up like they always do when he says that, and he pulls her in, letting her calm the thoughts that are reaping chaos in his head. He holds her for a long time, and stays silent, content to be what he needs. 

————————————

It’s been a week, and Dean can finally stand up straight. His bruises are turning more green than blue and the stitches are holding strong. Sam has fallen into having his brother back way too quickly. They talk, they fight, they get on each other’s nerves, they create petty arguments that Jess has to diffuse. It’s been so... easy. The part of him that has felt gutted since he left is finally gone. This last week has been the greatest week since he’s been here. And if that isn’t the most depressing shit to admit than Sam doesn’t have a clue. Sam wanted to leave, he planned and he dreamed to leave. And now he’s realizing that without Dean, without his brother, life is hard. 

This morning Sam and Jess are already in the kitchen making breakfast when Dean walks in... with his stupid fucking duffle bag. The smile on Sam’s face falls as he realizes its significance. Dean, for his part, looks hesitant. 

“I have to go. Dad called-“

“And you’re going? Just like that?” Sam cuts him off rudely. 

Dean sighs. “Sam, we’ve been over this.”

“Well, apparently you forgot the reason you came here. I can show you the bruises if you’d lime, if you’ve forgotten where they are.”

“This isn’t about that, Sammy. That changed nothing.” 

“It changed nothing my ass! Dean, he hit you! And kicked you and god knows what else! He doesn’t get to call you and have you right back!” Sam shouts. 

Dean runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s not that easy, Sam. You know I have to go.”

“No, actually. You don’t. You could stay.”

Dean let’s a humorless laugh out. “Oh yeah? You think Dad would let that happen? Because I know for a fact that the second that I back out, he’s coming for you, and I’ll be damned if I let that happen.” 

“You don’t need to protect me anymore, Dean! Please! You can’t go back.”

Dean shakes his head, obviously in pain from having to deny Sam anything. “I’m sorry, Sammy.“

“No, you’re not sorry. You’re a fucking idiot who can’t walk away. You-“ Sam is stooped by Dean who grips him in a tight hug. The younger tenses at first, but relaxes and grips Dean back. 

“Come on, kid. You knew this was coming. I’m going to be okay, all right? I’ll be fine. This isn’t going to happen again.”

Sam wants to keep fighting, he wants to ask how he knows. He wants to scream and yell and go tell Dad where he can shove it... but he knows when he’s lost. And he has lost this time. So he nods, accepting the lie. They pull away, neither meeting the other’s eyes. 

Jess who has stayed silent in the background steps forward and hugs Dean, much to the brothers’ surprise. “Thank you, Dean. For what you do. I don’t know the details, but I know Sam is here because of you.” She pulls back then slaps his arm gently. “Now, get out of here and come back soon. Maybe not quite as nearly-dead, maybe?”

Dean laughs. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try.” He turns to Sam again. “Take care of this one, Sammy. I like her.” And with that he walks out the door. Leaving the wrecked in Sam’s chest even wider than before.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments/kudos make my day!  
> If anyone has a prompt, I am Open!!


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